


The Wedding Dress

by islasands



Series: Lambski [2]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Love, M/M, Wedding Dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-28
Updated: 2011-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:26:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam and Sauli have been separated for a few days while Sauli visits with his Finnish friends. He prepares a surprise for Sauli's return. But is it a good one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Dress

“I have a surprise for you when you get home. I wish you’d hurry up. You’ve done enough canoeing already. You should be canoodling. With me.”

“Canoodling?”

“Paddling _my_ canoe.”

Sauli laughed.

“I will be home tomorrow. I am happy for my surprise.”

Adam wandered into his studio space. It was a large room, sparsely decorated, with coffee tables, old couches, paintings leaning on walls, and audio equipment. It was his favourite room in the house. Much as he appreciated having the wherewithal to rent and furnish a house, he missed the informality of flatting, missed his clothes hanging on door handles, the collection of wine bottles in the corner of his tiny, shambolic, kitchen, missed falling asleep on the couch, fully clothed, headphones on, wasted.

He looked at the surprise, standing, self-supported, in the corner of the room. Maybe this was not a good surprise. Maybe it would change what had been a joke into something serious. Too serious. He had thought it would be fun. Sauli loved playing dress-ups as much as he did. He smiled at the memory of them applying make-up on each other in the bathroom, giggling like teenagers, taking pics, then washing it all off in the shower, drinking champagne, and toasting each other’s dicks. And then. And then. He placed his hand over his groin and pressed hard in a futile attempt to quell the ache.

Another day was not long to wait. Sauli came rushing in, his face alight with the joy of their reunion. Even three days’ separation was way too long. They kissed but the kiss was brief, even cursory. It was too damn painful. As Adam said, “God, I love you so fucking much I can’t kiss you!” They felt like animals that need a ritual to contain their passion. They needed to lock horns, parade around ruffling their feathers, snarl at each other, reject one another’s advances in order to facilitate a pursuit situation.

The evening wore on. They were happily drunk, as much on love as on wine. Sauli suddenly remembered his surprise. He followed Adam down stairs to the studio. The room was lit by lamps that cast pools of light, pools of shadows, but the low lighting did not disguise the fact that Adam had managed to successfully mess the room up. Everywhere Sauli looked there was disarray, magazines, takeaway packaging, CD and DVD cases, wine bottles, rugs, even clothes, all strewn around the room. And in one corner, so white that it glowed, stood the skirt of a dress, as round and stiff as a meringue, the outer skirt a glossy fabric decorated with scrolling designs made of tiny jewels.

“This is my surprise?” Sauli said.

“Yes. Put it on!” Adam grinned. “We’ll take turns,” he added, suddenly remembering his reservations.

Sauli smoked while Adam took his clothes off. “Put that out,” Adam said sternly. "I don’t want my bride combusting.” He lowered the dress over Sauli, letting the bodice fall down around his waist. He fastened it at the back and stood back to look.

Sauli swirled around the room, laughing. Adam joined him, took him in his arms, and tenderly kissed him as they spun. He felt undone by the juxtaposition of Sauli’s masculinity and the ridiculous, yet beautifully feminine, dress.

“You’re a confection, my love. You’re candy-floss on a stick.”

Sauli smiled, his mouth seductively curving up on one side. “This is true.”

Adam widened his eyes at him. “Stand still!” he said. He went down on his knees and raised the skirts. Good God, how many were there? He crawled beneath them and then spread them over himself so that he could see Sauli’s underpants. He inwardly groaned. He felt as though he was covered in a drift of snow, buried alive in it, alone with his lover’s golden legs and white underpants. He pulled them down and drank in the smell of his cock. This was delightful. He was alone with his lover’s dick, as though it was all his. To do with as he willed. It’s owner was nicely absent, head in the clouds. He carefully licked the underside of his cock. It felt dreamy when he took it in his mouth. He skimmed his free hand up and down Sauli’s thigh. He was in a snow cave. He was drinking melted snow. He was safe from all storms.

They both collapsed on the floor in a heap. The skirts stood up from Sauli’s waist like a cloud. Adam put his arm beneath Sauli. He liked the feeling of his head, heavy as a stone, resting on his shoulder. He kissed the side of his head.

“I don’t want your wedding dress to go back into storage,” he said. Sauli raised up and looked into his eyes. Adam did not smile. He felt as coolly serious as the first day of spring. He reached down and fluffed up Sauli's skirt, making it waft even higher. "This dress is not as hideous as I first thought," he remarked. He stared into the clear blue gaze of his love. "You make it beautiful."

His reservations had melted away, like the last of winter’s snow.


End file.
